


Lisa is Too Money Hungry (to Say No) And That's Why She's My Cum Sponge

by Blackmarch



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/F, First Time Blow Jobs, Funny, Futanari, Hand Jobs, Humor, Lots of Cum, Other, Prostitution, Very silly title
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackmarch/pseuds/Blackmarch
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.Lisa needs money fast. As in, right now. Right this instant. Right this moment...and she knows exactly how to get it.What she had to do to get it might not exactly be dignified. Or moral. Or... Eh. So what? Amy Dallon is an easy sell. She's got the cash and Lisa has what she needs.Not like this can go wrong, right?
Relationships: Amy Dallon/Lisa Wilbourn/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 102





	1. Easy Sell

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU of an earlier work of mine. Sort of. If anything doesn't make sense to you, I'd advise you to read it!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/12767886/chapters/29130282
> 
> Here! Its good stuff! Also, the sort of stuff you'd be interested in if you're interested in this!
> 
> Wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

  
Amelia winced and put a thumb up to her temple as a pang slammed into her skull with all the gentle care of one of Squealer’s cars renovating an orphanage. Quick and brutal was the byword. Pleasant and welcome its antithesis. The result was crying orphans either way so these two things were rather similar.

The Children’s Ward wasn’t her favorite place in the world at the best of times, even after she’d finished with the serious cases...but that wasn’t really the point, now was it? She wasn’t dealing with the Children’s Ward of Ninth street and Hoover or the one at Martin Luther King and Watts. She was dealing with the most painful of tortures. The most pleasant of activities.

“Do these shorts make my butt look small?” Victoria asked as she did a slow spin in front of the mirror, making Amy’s eyes burn as they followed said tush to the end of their range. The shorts, which were extremely short, looked pretty good to her. “Or do they make them look big? In a good way?”

Good.

“Bwha,” was Amy’s most intelligent reply as she rapidly blinked her eyes and slapped on the look she tended to have after a day at work. Tired. Bored. A touch pissed. Seeing as she’d just gotten out of work, it wasn’t hard to pull up. “It's okay, I guess.”

“Just okay? I’m not looking for okay.” The blonde popped the button on her shorts with a scowl and a wriggle of the hips, a pair of lacy white panties clinging tightly to a pair of perfectly round globes putting Amy’s saliva glands on full blast once more. Just one bite and she’d die a happy lady...person. Fuck. “Great or nothing.”

Any better and that ass would be a war crime.

“R-right. Great is good.” Amy sniffed and forced herself to look away before her awkward staring became noticeable. More noticeable. Thank God Vicky was dense as four short planks when it came to Amy perving on her or this would have gotten more than just uncomfortable forever ago. “Maybe you should try on the, uh, those shorts. The sorta spandex ones?”

“The skintight ones?”

“Yeah. That. I guess.” Amy continued to look out the window placidly, hands on her chin and heart somewhere around her crotch. Her heartbeat anyway. “They’re black and pink?”

“Yeah, those,” Victoria muttered while Amy slid a thumb between her teeth for her to chew on when her sister’s panties went the way of her shorts. Downwards. With the sight of one of her lower lips in Amy’s peripherals, the younger of the two had just filled their spank bank for the week. “Why do I even get these anymore? It's not like I can even work out after my powers.”

Amy didn’t know either. She sure didn’t care though. She knew what was good for her.

“You get them because they look good on you,” Amy droned as she crossed her legs, pushing down the very angry and frustrated organ beneath her robes with all the weight her thighs possessed. She also bent forward, for safety’s sake; Victoria couldn’t be that dense. “They make for good selfies.”

“You were listening!”

Not really. She’d just said whatever came to mind... Would Vicky notice if Amy pulled her phone out? For posterity? Of her posterior?

No. No. She’d never go for that. Bad idea. Stupid. Stupid, stupid.

“That’s me. A good listener.” Amy breathed around her thumbnail as it began to bend under her front teeth; she was dying here and Victoria taking her time pulling those shorts up was shaving years off of her lifespan; Amy wished she could have said she’d had a part in making an ass that fine. Dimples like those couldn’t be crafted by human hands. “Did you get any bras?”

“Like two? Why?”

The worst of tortures. The most pleasant of activities.

“I was - just wondering if you still needed my opinion?”

Please.

“Well...” Vicky hummed as the waistband of her new bottoms snapped down tight around her middle. Amy breathed in, the blonde’s camel toe standing out in stark relief as a guilty look crossed their face. “No. Not really. I know you’re not all that interested in stuff like this. You’ve done plenty. Thanks for helping, Ames.”

Shit. Abort. Abort.

“Are you sure? Because, you know, I’m not really doing anything.” Amy forced herself to relax, voice-wise. Her throat felt like there was a vise on it. It wasn’t hard. She’d had a lot of practice since she’d hit puberty. Lots of practice. At lots of things. “I wasn’t asking about what was left because I had to go anywhere.”

“That’s sweet, but it's cool. Go relax. Read a book.” Vicky flashed her a smile and waggled her phone. Amy pretended really hard that she hadn’t been staring at their crotch in the mirror. “I’ll just call up Dean to tell me about the rest.”

“Oh. Right. Right. Dean.” Amy’s expression of hateful apathy became a great deal more authentic. “Your boyfriend.”

That bastard. May he choke on a thousand dicks and die in a fire.

“He’s going to love me or despair.” Victoria, sweet, self centered Victoria, started making kissy faces into the lens. “You should go before this gets spicy.”

Another pang struck, right between the eyes as Amy took a stand. And right between the legs. Squealer had just hit the Maternity Ward and the tower it was in was currently in the process of falling...and bursting into flames. Oh, fuck, it was already hurting. Bad. Super bad. Ow, ow, ow, ow. “Gross. Really gross.”

“You’ll think different when you finally get yourself a boyfriend, Ames~”

Amy stumbled and laid herself up against the doorjamb, her balls clenching with a vengeance. Such visceral revulsion couldn’t be described, only felt. “N-no thanks. I like being single.”

“Your loss!”

Amy really doubted that. And now she was going to have to blow off some steam before her dick exploded. Again. And she was going to have to buy more condoms to jerk off into. Again.

It was a necessity. Sending an ultra-spermicidal bacteria down the shower drain because she’d plugged it again was only fun the first time it happened.

That was a lie. It was never fun.

Amy grumbled as she forced herself to lay flat and get under her bed. Lotion, tissues and magazines awaited.

Having a big ol’ dick and a libido that could put a stable of porn stars to shame wasn’t what it was cracked up to be.

===========

After another night spent furiously jerking off to her sister, risking chafing and another tissue run to the corner store later, Amy’s opinion on having a dick hadn’t changed much. She was just mellow now. She was still pretty stressed, when wasn’t she, but it was a lot harder to care after a...not entirely shitty night’s sleep and at least three extremely messy orgasms.

Hell, she was so mellow she almost didn’t feel guilty about said furious masturbation.

_“You look tired, Ames. Bad night?”_

Almost. That was as good as it was going to get what with her - condition. Her near overbearing _need_ to fuck something warm and wet and willing until she could fuck no more.

Just another teenager, in other words, even if how she’d ended up with male genitals on a female body wasn’t normal... It was _now._ That had to be said. Her not being normal was an Eighty-Eight talking point and those guys could get fucked; there had been a time where girls didn’t have a one-in-five chance of coming out with a dick but that time was nearly twenty years past.

This was the new normal. That the new normal sucked was obvious.

Stupid Lustrum, for releasing that failure of a virus on the general population. Stupid puberty, for unleashing this hell upon her already difficult life. Stupid Manton limit, for making it so that Amy couldn’t fix her problems even if she wanted to. Stupid Victoria, for having the most banging body on the East coast.

... Top two percent for sure. Being eighteen years old and unwilling to sit on Amy’s face was really holding her back.

Amy sighed and rubbed under her eyes, swearing that the bags there had deepened as she took a pull from her drink, eight espresso shots with a thin mix of chocolate ice cream and Oreo cookie bits. Not at all worth the twenty dollars she’d paid for it, but it was the only thing keeping her up that day. Well, that, and the nagging itch she felt whenever she wasn’t busting her ass saving the world, one superglue plugged urethra at a time.

You’d think she was joking. You’d be wrong. There was currently a frat boy with much more money than sense that had left back to his college dorm, two-thousand dollars lighter after having donated to the ‘Amy needs coffee’ fund. Of his own free will, of course. Not having a piece that had been peeled open like a flower to get all the glue out, just before summer break, was a choice.

He’d chosen...well.

It had all been under the table, of course. Carol would have lost her shit otherwise... Was it illegal? Probably. Did Amy have a caffeine addiction? Yes. Did the local hospitals owe her their collective firstborns for creating the booming medical tourism industry that they were taking advantage of? Fuck yes.

She deserved it and she had to keep that in mind...and what was with people putting objects in their orifices that really shouldn’t be up there? Like, come on. Why? She asked this as a medical professional. Any week where someone hadn’t lost a light bulb in their ass was a slow one and that shouldn’t be the case. She shouldn’t have to say that, but she did.

Amy took a long, sullen drag of her straw as she took an even longer look out the window of the cafe she was in. Out at the Boardwalk and the teeming hordes of stupid, self destructive, oversexed lemmings that had brought her opinion of mankind to whole new lows.

... She was going to have to talk with Admin for a bigger cut of the pie. She wasn’t making nearly enough for what she did. This was some bullshit. Bullshit, like the ankle-length skirt she was wearing to hide her thigh-slapping magnum dong from the general population, but even more so. At least her robes were there to keep her decent while she was getting fucked out of her wages.

Stupid robes...

“Is this seat taken?”

Amy squeezed down on her plastic cup and, if not for her having had most of her drink already, she would have ended up looking at the world through a chocolatey brown, espresso tint. She wasn’t surprised often, especially when she was thinking about how shitty people were. Her mad case of resting bitch face normally gave people a hint that their company wasn’t welcome. Not this time though. “No.”

“Oh, cool. Thank you sooooo much.” The new person, the new girl that had just forced her way into Amy’s personal ten-foot bubble sphere of impregnability, took the seat she’d been after like she hadn’t just heard Amy ground out a ‘no’ that sounded like it had come out of a concrete mixer. “I know this sounds weird but I have a hard time drinking my coffee without someone to share the table with. That sounds weird, right?”

Amy’s frown deepened but she held her tongue. It was the second look that did that. The one that gave her more information than ‘girl’ and ‘annoyance’.

She might have been in love with her sister, but she wasn’t dead. Eye candy was eye candy, and she didn’t often get the chance to talk to eye candy outside of work... That was the reasoning her hind brain gave Amy as to why she hadn’t just told the new blonde to fuck right off.

Literally. It might not have been in so many words, but she could see her own brain if she tried.

It was pretty gross.

“I don’t know if it's weird.” Amy played along with her hind brain while giving her new table buddy a third look. Just to make sure. Dirty-blonde, shoulder-length hair. Green eyes. A smattering of freckles across the bridge of their nose and a small, smug smile. Her age... In other words, she was pretty hot. “But I’ve never heard that before. Why here though? There’s plenty of space.”

Amy had checked. That was kind of her thing, checking. That was just something she did. Getting blindsided by the rare fan that knew what she looked like out of costume always soured her mood.

“Yeah, there’s plenty of other people. You aren’t wrong. You’re just asking yourself ‘why me’?” The blonde flicked her thumb back towards herself as she leaned forward. “But they’re, uh, all men? That could give people the wrong idea, you know?”

Amy took another look around. They hadn’t been wrong. It was a sausage fest. And, yes. Amy did, in fact, know. Venereal diseases didn’t come from nothing after all... Also, eww. If any of these people were younger than forty she’d fistfight Lung. Bad thoughts. “Nice to meet you?”

“Lisa.” That smug smile of theirs gained some wattage. “Nice to meet you, drinking buddy.”

“Amy.” Amelia sighed as the strong smell of caffeine that wasn’t hers rose up to her nose. Loads of caffeine. Enough caffeine to sub for an adrenaline shot with floating chunks of lemon cake in it. Outside of it too, on the side and already crumbling as lemon cakes tended to do... One of those would have hit the spot right about now. “And you’re making this sound like we’re drinking before five.”

“We are drinking before five, once you think about it. Drinking black, liquid, tarry gold. But drinking.” Lisa nodded sagely while aggressively stirring her drink with a spoon. One of the lemon pieces came back up, soggy and limp and into her mouth. “Coffee. The best drug of them all.”

Amy wouldn’t say that was wrong. She wouldn’t say that was right either. But she wouldn’t say that was wrong.

You didn’t get far in medicine without a trip to the break room for your daily rations. Lisa might have been joking about the tar, that was the idea that Amy got, but that wasn’t far off from the normal. Far too many grounds, far too much time on the burner, Folgers; it wasn’t so much tar as it was a black mass that hated all that lived.

“I guess it's okay.”

It was the greatest fucking thing in the world. And good reply. Very ‘both-sides’. Very inoffensive. Nothing could go wrong with that big brained answer.

Lisa nodded again, acting as if Amy had said something of substance and nuance; That hit Amy right in her imposter-syndrome. “Deep.”

Amy snorted. “Like bathwater.”

“There are some big baths out there. Don’t look down on them because they are baths.” Lisa’s lemon cake, the one on the napkin, was used as a form of emphasis. A waggling, crumby emphasis that was quick to lose a piece of itself in Lisa’s increasingly murky coffee graveyard. “Look down on them because they aren’t deeper than they are.”

Amy frowned. More than usual as she thought that over.

“Let it come to you.”

Amy hadn’t realized that this was a beatnik coffee shop. But okay. Sure. Whatever. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking... Nah. “That makes no sense. Are you screwing with me?”

“... Maybe. I mean... Um. This got away from me. I’ve never done this before.” Lisa swallowed, her smile losing some of that luster as she gave a look to the left. Then a look to the right. Then a cup rattling suck of her cake-stuffed straw that ended up with her just tilting the cup back and going for it. Half of it was gone before she put it down. “Fifty for a handle.”

...

“Eh? Wha?” Amy fumbled her response like a champ. “Excuse?”

Brilliant.

“Look, this is a one time offer. I don’t do this sort of shit for fun,” Lisa, if that was her real name, hissed lowly and behind a hand as red began to bleed into her face. She wasn’t looking as smug as before and Amy had to say that just made her hotter... Wait. No. Yes. No. Less punchable. That was it. “Going once. Going twice-”

“I thought you didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea!” Amy hissed lowly back as her own face began to heat up. “Where did that go?”

“I meant what I said. The only one with the right idea is you and that’s about to go out of style.” Lisa grimaced. “You couldn’t pay me enough to help these sad fucks relive their football years. Hell no. I did cheerleading for a couple years and I’m never going back.”

That was - a thing.

“Sixty if you wear a cheerleader’s outfit while you do it,” Amy said with zero thought or shame.

The shame came after. It brought friends.

Not enough of them to keep her from being interested though. At this point, she was desperate enough to go for it. Amy admitted it. She didn’t get a lot of propositions. As in, none. No propositions.

She was very lonely.

Lisa’s cheek twitched. “Do I look like I have one of those on me? Not that I’d wear it even if I-”

“Eighty.” In for a penny.

The blonde’s cheek twitched again. Harder. A line of sweat went past her left eye. “More money isn’t going to magically make a cheerleader outfit appear.”

“A hundred and I’ll source it.”

“You’ll source - of course you’ll source it. What was I thinking? Not like you were going to make me pull one together from scratch, duh.” Lisa pounded down the last of her drink while Amy was flush with a victory she wasn’t entirely certain she’d wanted. “A hundred-fifty or you can pound sand. No cheering.”

Amy considered that. Deeply. For a good...not a minute, but close. On one hand, that was a hundred-fifty dollars. Dollars that she could use on cheap stuffed rabbit plushie kitsch and more coffee. On the other, she could have someone that had offered to touch her penis actually touch her penis. A lot. While they wore a cheerleader’s outfit.

Tough choice.

“Deal,” Amy hastily agreed..

But not tough enough. There was a good chance she was going to look back and regret this later, but this wasn’t later. This was now. Now. Now, now, now, now, now.

Lisa blinked at her, pupils wide in that way that only people with a serious coffee habit had, but didn’t say anything as she slid her chair back. She said something when she stood up, with Amelia on her heels; the legs scratched the floor like nails on a board. “Desperate much?”

She had no idea.

“I live a very stressful lifestyle.” Amy coughed as she hailed a cab with an arm moving so fast that it was a blur. Lisa rolled her eyes. “We’re going to have to swing around to my house for...huh...” Amy noticed something after a long time without. To be fair, her head was missing a lot of the blood she needed for clear thinking right then. “How did you find out about my whole - situation?”

Amelia didn’t remember saying anything about that, but Lisa seemed to have picked up on that without prompting. That was strange.

“It's a skirt,” Lisa’s response was as dry as Amy’s panties were whenever someone mentioned Dean. “You had a half-chub sort of deal going on while you were sitting down.”

“What? Did I?” Amy looked down. She was, indeed, wearing a skirt... She hadn’t been at half before though, had she? She didn’t think so. She was now, but that wasn’t the same thing at all. “I think the problem is that I need a bigger skirt.”

“... Oh.” Lisa mulled that over. She flexed her fingers. “That’s nice.”

“You’d really think so.” Amy sighed, thinking back on just how ‘nice’ having a fully functional penis had been so far; not having to sit down only went so far; seeing your own biology didn’t make it any less nasty. “You’d really fucking think so.”

Hopefully, it wouldn’t take much longer to turn that around.

==========

‘Much longer’ couldn’t come soon enough.

“Weren’t we just going to swing by your house? And not enter it? Or plan to stay in it for longer than it took for you to get that cheerleader outfit you were talking about?” Lisa commented in that sort of snide, more than just sort of patronizing way Amy had come to realize was their normal. “I was kind of looking forward to that hotel room.”

“I’m not made out of money. If you want me to rent out a room for an hour, you’re going to have to offer something bigger than a hand job.”

“Never mind then.” Lisa backed down, leaving Amy vaguely disappointed as they went up the stairs. It also rubbed in the thought that she’d been serious about how she wasn’t used to this line of work. An actual - escort - wouldn’t have been so shy. “Nice place.”

“It’s home.” It could have used a pool though. And a patio worth a damn. “No one should be home right now, but shush.”

Having someone check on her and the weird noises coming out of her room would be just the worst thing. As bad as someone checking on her now.

Only blue balls awaited. She wouldn’t survive another round... Amy was exaggerating. Surviving would be painful, but possible. It was just that she was also already hard enough to punch a hole in concrete that made her say things like that; swinging free in her just-roomy-enough boxers, threatening the hallway furniture and the vases on them in her short walk on the home stretch while Lisa pretended she wasn’t sneaking peeks made her brave.

The blonde’s head was on a swivel, looking everywhere but at Amy and she was blushing. She’d been looking for sure. It was a - weird feeling, knowing that. Not bad. Definitely not bad for once. It was almost nice.

“This is your room then? Not bad.” Lisa whispered politely while Amy ushered her in and locked the door. A slap to the other girl’s jean-covered butt was a near thing. Near, but no dice. Amy really wasn’t made of money. Lisa could have asked for it and she’d have been right to. “I thought there would be more black.”

“It didn’t work with the walls,” Amy explained absentmindedly as she dug through her closet and Lisa took a seat on the bed; The eggshell-white hue had made it look funny. And the only light being the one at her desk had hurt her eyes; Tight leather pants had also hurt like a mother fucker... Her emo phase had lasted only a couple of months and she didn’t miss any of it. “Make yourself comfortable and give me a second.”

“You have a cheerleader outfit already?”

One of Vicky’s older ones, before she’d quit to do college classes, but she did. “Yeah.”

“Is it even in my size?”

Probably not. And changing that would be a step too far, even for this. That would have to stay a fantasy. “Dunno.”

“... Is it even yours?”

No, Amy thought as she flipped the last of the clothes pile off to the side, revealing the box she kept her sister’s old suit in. Opened it. Pulled it out in a bundle that had been the centerpiece of several fantasies involving Victoria trying to fit her much more mature body into the much smaller set of clothing. They’d been good ones...and it looked like it might fit? “What’s with the third-degree? Did I ask you why you needed money?”

“So defensive,” Lisa teased, the smile on her face more biting than playful. The clothes ended up in her lap and she raised a brow. “Arcadia High, huh? You’re lucky you’re my age or this would be creepy as fuck.”

“You can change in the closet if you want,” Amy said stiffly as a spike of embarrassment finally broke through. She already knew she might have had a problem. That didn’t mean she wanted to hear it. “I won’t look.”

“What a lady you are. So thoughtful.” Lisa unrolled the top and put it to the side, then the pleated skirt while standing up and clumsily pulling at the buttons of her cute and tasteful blue blouse. Amy’s attention span was reinforced drastically at the sight of cream and lightly-freckled boob flesh. “I’m not going to charge you for a peek. Don’t worry about it.”

Amy hadn’t thought about that at all. It hadn’t even crossed her mind. But that was good. Very good. This was good.

“Kay. I won’t.”

Lisa just rolled her eyes once more and shook her head as she got on with it, not taking her time or trying to make it more interesting than it already was. It was all very casual besides the fumble of her fingers as they slid across thin plastic to pull them free, revealing greater expanses of skin and the swell of her chest beneath her plain bra. Just like the dotting on the bridge of her nose, there were cute little spots on her collarbone and just between her breasts. Nothing like what Amy had but great all the same as they broke up the clear and pale.

Amy blinked as the blouse was set aside to hang on her rolling chair. It was the first blink since Lisa had started and, if Amelia had her way, she’d only blink again when Lisa had finished.

Then came the jeans. The jeans that were a size too small, which had been obvious before (if they’d been any tighter on that butt they’d have been spray painted on) but not so obvious as now when they came loose and Lisa let out a sigh of relief; the marks of denim pressed into skin just above her hips were glaring. Fashion demanded sacrifices.

The momentarily puzzling bright purple of a high-hipped thong told Amy that, to Lisa, some sacrifices were too far.

Comfort had won out...and hotness. Amy approved.

“I know they don’t match,” Lisa grumbled and reached for the top on the bed, trying to bend over in front of Amy without _quite_ bending over in front of a still standing Amy...that was okay. This was good enough to keep her boner going. Lisa might not have had a Victoria-tier booty, but Amy would have still eaten it like groceries. The light butt-flossing that was going on was eye catching. “This wasn’t in the plans for today.”

Amy took the chance to blink while she could. Because she had to, not because she wanted to. She also tried out hiking up her skirt and using her dick as a support to keep it out of the way even while she fed it through the front of her boxers. It was rather effective. Also, refreshing. “What changed your plans?”

Lisa was silent as she pulled Victoria’s old top on, filling it out better than the now lightly masturbating Amy thought she would have; she was touching herself. Doing some light petting and jerking, was all. And Lisa said she could look. Lisa couldn’t complain about that, right? “Some things came up and I needed the money. You looked like you had enough sexual frustration for the entire cafe, weren’t too picky about how I dealt with it, and like you wouldn’t put me in your freezer after.”

… Wow. That was morbid. And sort of insulting. Not enough to even begin to dull Amy’s horny, but wow.

Also, had she been that obvious? Shit.

“And I wasn’t a forty-year old man. I remember,” Amy echoed their earlier conversation. The first glob of pre worked its way out of her cock head, shiny and thick while her pussy began to drip in sympathy. “And it's good to know I don’t look like a serial killer. Love the compliment.”

“I’m here to please. Literally… Ugh. That sounded better in my head.” Lisa stepped into the skirt and pulled it up, adjusting it with what looked like practiced ease. There might have been some truth to her claim of once being a cheerleader after all. “If you want me to stroke your ego like I’m going to stroke your dick, that’s going to be extra.”

Lisa knew just what to say.

“Ten.” Amy was starting to feel like a high roller. Also, like this was starting to get out of her control... It was a dizzying feeling. Intoxicating. Giddy. “Thirty if you talk up the size of my load after you work it out. I’ve been wondering how it feels like to be a stud.”

It sounded like it would be pretty nice...and this was really going to her head, wasn’t it?

... She was a terrible person. A terrible person with the terrible, terrible power that was money and the willingness to use it.

It wasn’t like she was forcing anyone, but still.

“What? You really want me to- I was just kidding!” Lisa spun around, a light-blue skirt flaring prettily around her bare thighs when she stopped abruptly with wide eyes and a rapidly spreading flush that went right down to her uncovered stomach. “You couldn’t wait for me to get this on!?”

“You’re hot as hell. I couldn’t help it. And you were going to see this anyway. Hell, you were going to touch it. Shouldn’t you be happy that I’m doing some of your job for you before you even started?” Amy pointed out, licking her lips and gently rubbing under the tip, getting some lubricant on the pad as her impeccable logic stopped Lisa in her tracks. “I think we’re both ready now. Don’t you?”

Just **_terrible_**.


	2. Amateur Work

Lisa didn’t regret running away from home. Not even for a second. She didn’t regret going from the West coast to the East all on her own. She didn’t regret emptying out one of her parent’s many bank accounts to finance this journey. She didn’t regret ending up where she did, Brockton Bay, a city where a girl with a brain could make something of herself.

She didn’t regret that.

“Come on,” Amelia Dallon, the great and powerful Panacea, breathed as she pushed her waist forward. Offered herself up, her throbbing dick bouncing lightly in front of Lisa’s face in comfortable grabbing range. “You promised.”

Lisa _did_ regret being here right now though. Sort of. She could be pragmatic when she had to be. To a point. She hadn’t reached that point yet, _yet_ , because of this pragmatism.

Things had been good for a while. She’d been riding high. But, now, things had to change.

Things had been getting sort of - tight. Money had been running low. Several stores had singled her out as a possible (she was) shoplifter already. Boardwalk security had been giving her the stink eye lately over her semi-regular loitering around the food carts. The cash had been running out, the lemon cake and coffee she’d picked up that very day almost wiping her entirely.

There was a little less than five bucks in her pocket. Pretty much nothing, once you thought about it. Or didn’t. Thinking about it wasn’t necessary. Five bucks couldn’t buy shit.

Lisa was also pretty sure that someone out there was looking for her. Or, at least, for a green-eyed blonde. She didn’t have the data yet to say who or for why, but she was a big girl. A big girl that took care of how she looked. She could guess and she didn’t like what she was guessing. Lisa’s power had been put on overtime for that one and how to not get any firsthand experience with it, with all the other stuff as secondary right after she’d found out.

Food and shelter and a new purse that fit with her even newer set of Gucci shoes was great and all, but so was not ending up in some freak’s basement. Or attic. Or a hidden room in their bedroom. Or wherever the fuck deranged serial killers put the people they caught. That was important too.

Duh.

Anyway, as always, her power had come through for her. It had told her what she’d had to do to claw her way up to a standard of living to which she was accustomed. It had done that. Just...not exactly in the way she’d have liked it to? At all? But it had? She guessed?

It was a tossup. Her power telling her to stick to New Wave’s token new-girl like a leech with superglue had been something she’d agreed with. At first. It had just come up while she’d been buying her daily caffeine fix, while she’d been casing the place for any rubes that wouldn’t notice their missing wallet if she was smooth enough.

Lisa had caught sight of Amy Dallon during that sweep and her priorities had been instantly forced to shift; having a celebrity for a friend couldn’t hurt; Oh, the money thing had stayed. She was _definitely_ looking to put a dent in her checkbook. She had been from the start. That had stayed the same. It was just that the method that would work best kept on _changing_ and that was screwing with her head.

Keeping to a plan was hard when you didn’t have one.

Her power had gone from telling her to be Amy’s friend, to her best friend, to that one girl you saw at high school (there was always one) that would jack you off in the janitor’s closet for a twenty and a burger. The changing of roles had been so fast it had given her whiplash and, more fool her, she’d gone along with it. Lisa had done what her power had said.

Because of course she had. Why wouldn’t she? It hadn’t steered her wrong yet. She was still alive, wasn’t she? Her parents hadn’t found her yet, had they? Right.

From then on, she’d just been going along with the flow.

The amount of resistance Lisa had put up since they’d met, had been putting up, was the barest amount necessary to keep Amy interested and invested. If she’d been too easy, they’d have balked. The amount of money she’d made Amy put up for the pleasure of spending time with her, same. The only part of the mess she was in now that hadn’t been on the script had been the cheerleader outfit thing.

Lisa hadn’t been lying about being a cheerleader once. She’d hated it the entire time. It had been too much work for too little. Putting the outfit back on, even if it was for a different school, sucked. But, well, if Amy wanted to throw over a hundred dollars at her just for that, who was Lisa to argue? That was a couple of days at a hotel and a couple of days of raiding the hotel’s buffet for maybe ten minutes of work while wearing a stupid costume.

Once again, Lisa could be pragmatic if she had to be... And that was why she was currently tying her hair back with a rubber band; The pout on her face was part of the show, a little something extra that tickled Amy’s heavily suppressed and thankfully very minor sense of sadism. The rubber band was mostly that most-vaunted pragmatism in play again.

Lisa didn’t want anything getting in her hair. Ew.

Amy had been dripping like a faucet and Lisa suspected that she should have asked for an umbrella. Probably. From what Lisa understood, that was actually pretty normal when it came to new-girls. They were oversexed. To varying degrees. Shame on her for not thinking that through before she’d agreed to this... Ha. No. She was just kidding.

Amy should have thought about that before she let her fat and trembling rod start spewing thick, off-white drops of pre-seed on the carpet in a weird attempt at a power play and fantasy building all in one. Getting that out was going to be hell and the healer was letting the situation get to her head... Also, not Lisa’s problem. Definitely not. None of that was.

If Amy wanted to make her life harder in the long term, more power to her.

“Yeah, yeah. I did. We had a deal. Have.” Lisa let her band go with a snap, wishing that she’d thought about getting gum to chew. Obnoxiously. It felt right. “Lie down.”

Amy blinked as she drove over a mental bump in the road. This hadn’t been in her fantasies, obviously. “Why?”

“I agreed to jerk you off, not let you baste me like a turkey.” Lisa resisted the urge to roll her eyes when Amy’s cheek twitched. Lisa didn’t even need her powers to see the new-girl’s will crack. “So, how about you just-”

“Three-hundred,” Amy rasped, interrupting (she did that a lot) and ensuring that Lisa had a shower in the near future as she walked right into the blonde’s trap. Again. She also took a step into Lisa’s space, filling it with the increasingly musky stench of sex and desperation. Fun. “I want to see it all over your chest.”

Making money had never been so easy.

“... Well, if that’s how it’s going to be...” Lisa shrugged that expected reply off, her nose wrinkling when Amy took another shuffling, bouncy, leaky step. It was a step that came with the very welcome deaths of several billion germs and microbes as they came into contact with Amy’s bare skin; At least they were clean. “Good luck getting the stains out.”

“I’m not worried about it. Don’t worry about it.” Amy panted as she pulled her loose t-shirt up higher on her waist along with her skirt, showing off the freckled expanse of skin just under her bellybutton and the soft padding of her stomach as she did so; she was just about feral and they hadn’t even started yet. “Let’s do this.”

Lisa didn’t think she could up the price any higher right then, so... Right. Time to get sticky.

The blonde hesitated for a breath, her fingers crazing along the shiny-wet skin of Amy’s glans before she took them in hand.

She couldn’t even do that entirely, even if she’d tried. Amy was too big for that, the heavy throb that inflated every vein on her slick shaft making it only harder to do as it forced her fingers apart in an obscene show of animalistic lust. A grimace crossed her face as it bucked in her hand hard enough to nearly slip free while a dollop of pre slung free from the head in a rope to dirty the bedspread between her thighs.

“I guess you didn’t want that thirty after all.”

... Right. Amy had wanted dirty talk. She’d wanted to be the stud for once. That had slipped Lisa’s mind.

This was going to be embarrassing.

“Sure, baby. Okay. You want me to say something dirty? Is that what you want?” Lisa slapped on a smile and a peppy tone with the practiced ease of high school cheerleaders everywhere; Making the QB believe the steroids hadn’t shrunk his dick was a part of the job. “Do you want me to say nice things to you while I work a load out of your fat, nasty cock?”

A full-body, near-orgasmic shudder ran through Amy’s entire frame at the cringe-worthy mess that had just come out of Lisa’s mouth. She also swayed on her feet, toes curled and eyes closed when Lisa gave her a one-inch pump up and down. “Uh huh.”

Gross.

Lisa took the time while Amy’s eyes were closed to make some more faces while teasing their almost purple tip with her thumb, coaxing out even more copious amounts of precum to glaze the ground with a near unbroken stream; Drool escaped from the side of Amy’s mouth, just a dash as she let out a moan while Lisa muttered platitudes.

It didn’t matter what Lisa said as long as it was ‘dirty’. Amy didn’t have the higher thought required to care about it anymore, and wouldn’t for as long as Lisa kept touching her. No point in going for ‘quality’ if ‘good enough’ worked.

Lisa kept on playing with Amy’s length with that in mind, tickling and squeezing the base with her free hand while quickly and gracelessly jerking the first few inches beneath the glans. Amy moaned again, louder as her prick spasmed during one of Lisa’s squeezes and unleashed a thin, milky spray all over Lisa’s cheer top, instantly soaking it through in several spots; ... She was doing good then. Great.

She was lucky that Amy’s standards were so low or this would have been a lot harder... And, also, this stuff was fucking _warm_. Lisa hadn’t really thought about it while it was just her fingers feeling it, but god damn. It felt like she’d dropped a fourth of a cup of warm milk on herself, hot and right off the stove... And it smelled funny, now that it was this close. Now that it was touching her.

It was actually mixing with her perfume and it was making her dizzy. Lightheaded even. They didn’t mix all that well.

Lisa’s heart pounded desperately inside of her chest as an already awkward act just got more so. Strings of goo began to break under their own weight, splattering heavy droplets all over Lisa’s forearms as thin rivers slid down the back of her hands. Amy just kept making noises, grunting and sighing while Lisa did the job she’d been paid to do; She jerked her hips every once in a while, always forcing Lisa to rear back as they fucked against the blonde’s hand with a sloppy _squelch_ or _pop_.

... This all felt familiar for some reason. Very. Having never done this before in her life though, Lisa quickly put that out of her mind. What a stupid fucking thought that was.

Before long, a little less than the ten minutes that Lisa thought it would have taken, nearly everything below Lisa’s elbows was covered in Amy’s fluids as the healer neared the edge; Her thankfully _sterile_ fluids; Amy’s germicidal touch didn’t end at her skin. That made itself very clear to Lisa as Amy’s juices wiped the slate clean, smashing a whole new anxiety-causing button even as they gave another a rest.

It was so gross...but it was so useful. Lisa wouldn’t be touching her face anytime soon, but watching another billion amoebae melt was so satisfying... Satisfying, and not something she should be thinking about right then. Not when Amy was on the verge of blowing her load all over her tits.

It was what they’d paid for, so it was what it was. Three-hundred was nothing to scoff at, even if it was all she made that day.

If. That was the operative word.

Amy’s hip thrusts were now a regular thing. Her hips moved forward and back to an unstable and undignified beat, whimpering like a dog underneath her hood while Lisa braced herself for the oncoming deluge. That, and sped up her own movements with narrowed eyes as Amy’s eager nuts slapped against her thighs, causing the thin rivers of pussy juice on them to splash with each clap.

Getting that in her eyes sounded like it would hurt...and Lisa had to wonder how that worked, having both sets at once. It wasn’t something that had ever come to mind before now, but now she had to wonder. Weirdly, she suspected. Also, for now, not her problem.

“I’m gonna cum,” Amy said breathily, telling Lisa what she’d already known as her meat in the blonde’s hands gained a third of an inch in width and her family jewels contracted; Lisa kept her chin up and pointed them down, closer to her stomach than her cleavage. She was expecting some kick. “I’m going to fucking _cum_.”

Lisa didn’t have anything smart to say to that one. Just something about how Amy should just do it all over her tight body already instead of making her wait when Amy let loose to do just that. Cum positively exploded out of her bucking cock in a wave of spunk, proving that Lisa had been correct to have aimed them lower on her body. Lisa had expected some push back, but not this much.

... She kind of got where Lustrum had been coming from now, as to new-girls being the weapon to end all weapons. This wasn’t exactly Lisa’s thing, but she could see where people were coming from when they commented on hyper virility being a feature instead of a bug. If it wasn’t for the spate of males that had been born from new-girls in recent years, males born with their ‘best’ features, it could have been bad.

Lucky them, huh?

The near-solid spray hit her uncovered stomach first, drenching it and the elastic of her skirt before cutting sharply upwards onto her top. Right between Lisa’s cleavage, soaking the Arcadia Whale right through with a white tsunami along with her bra before dotting the start of her collarbone, just under her chin.

It was only Lisa’s panicked push downwards that kept Amy from going even higher and hosing her face when the second shot came through. Even while being less than the first, slightly, it still made the underside of Amy’s erection noticeably bulge before it was flung all over Lisa’s already waterlogged chest. It was more than enough to hide any distinguishing markers, any blue or gold as it forced the material to conform to her body anyway...and then a pause. An anticlimactic halt where Amy stopped vibrating quietly in place and her muscles loosened with a sigh.

Lisa just chalked it all up to ‘new-girl things’ and let it go.

“That hit the spot...” For the first time that day, Amy almost sounded _happy_. No. Too far. Content. She almost sounded _content_. Almost. A quick look down at their still iron hard erection and their quivering balls had Lisa doing some very quick math. “You were worth every dollar.”

“Glad to hear what you think.” Lisa kept her expression a very careful neutral as she kept herself from wiping at her neck. What with the gunk her hands were covered in, she’d just be trading one mess for another...and Lisa had just finished doing math. Six minutes of work. Nine if she counted her putting on the uniform. Three-hundred dollars. A thousand dollars for forty-five minutes was worth the long shower she was going to have to take and that was that. “But are you really done?”

Amy instantly went stiff again and babbled something incoherent. Not even Lisa’s powers could pick up what it had been, other than ‘intrigued surprise’. The thought that she might get more out of Lisa today hadn’t crossed her mind, it seemed. To be fair, it hadn’t crossed Lisa’s mind until now either. But, needs must. Those tiny chocolate mints that the good places put on their pillows didn’t pay for themselves.

“Oh. Wait. Sorry. Never mind.” Lisa’s expression shifted into one of grudging contrition while Amy continued to waffle over what she should do as her post-orgasm clarity came on. “You’re paying me with your savings, aren’t you? You just blew out your allowance for the rest of the year. I can tell. Again, never mind. Where’s your shower?”

Hook.

“Give me a second,” Amy said, sounding like she wanted to scream it while choking on her spit instead. Her skirt fell, instantly turning themselves into a tent with a dark spot in the middle; The smell of sex was _everywhere_ now and Lisa sort of wanted to be the fly on the wall when someone said something about it. “You’re okay with doing more?”

Line.

“Not for nothing. We talked about that already. Hell, I want to see what you owe me.” Lisa rose a brow. Amelia sputtered and began patting her clothing down. “Does it even exist?”

“It's right here!” Amy didn’t do anything as cliche as cheering as she hauled her well-padded silver money clip out of a fold in her skirt, but the faltering steadiness in her voice as her libido fought to take the driver’s seat back was obvious. Also, Amy had just squirted right through her clothes. That dark spot had just become see-through. The things Lisa did for an all-you-can-eat... “How much?”

Sinker.

“What are you looking for?” Lisa snatched the soon offered three-hundred adroitly between her fingers. She then slid it under a bra strap with a sharp grin, nearly giving Amy a heart attack. “I can’t read minds.” Technically. “Your lips, my ears.”

“What do I want? My lips? ... Whatever I...” If Amy had been lying down her legs would have been kicking like an embarrassed schoolgirl’s. What little of her cheeks that Lisa could see peeking out from over the top of their collar was dark red, surrounded by barely darker freckles; This was going better than she’d ever dreamed. “Can we have sex?”

Oops. Too far. Pull back. Do not pass go.

“Now I’m sure you don’t have enough. I already told you this isn’t something I normally do.” That dry reply from a still smiling face was the most honest response Lisa had made all day. A little less than two-thousand dollars wasn’t nearly enough for her to give up any of her virginities. Not even close. “Let's think smaller.”

If Amy asked for anal instead, she was leaving. Powers prodding her to keep going or not. Money or not. Besides pragmatism, Lisa also had standards. One of those standards was not giving someone the key to her backdoor on the first ‘date’.

That was just common sense.

“... Oh. Damn.” Amy, now greatly deflated after having been denied for the first time since they’d stuck the deal that had led to this moment, rolled her shoulders and stood up from her sudden depressed hunch. “Could I - get a blowjob?”

Lisa found herself in the middle of the...fourth or fifth biggest dilemma of the day right then. In line. Not in terms of severity. That was up in the air. What wasn’t up in the air was the math. The effort times nut equals money ratio. This equation had a say.

A blowjob meant that she was going to have to put something in her mouth that she really didn’t want in her mouth. That was a problem. A big problem.

Then again, she figured, Amy was proving to be a fairly quick shot. A handjob in a cheerleader outfit stood to pay for a few nights in a classy hotel, a couple weeks in the local holiday inn. A blowjob, even a mediocre one, could keep her in fluffy bathrobes and pillow chocolates for a whole week.

She’d also run out of mouthwash like a week ago and her mouth was starting to get kind of musty. Lisa had to think of things like that.

"Two-hundred for a blow then.” Lisa crossed her arms, ready to die on the hill she’d found. “I make no promises on how deep I'll go."

Amy sweated quietly, fingers trembling while visibly subtracting the amount from her clip without removing it. Lisa would have just _loved_ playing poker with them. "Are my balls a part of that? My pussy?”

And Lisa had thought she’d only have to deal with one half of the set today. Well, no skin off her nose.

"I’ll tickle them for you for another fifty, but I’m not putting either of those last two things in my mouth," Lisa quickly replied, already planning on where to go for some fancy soaps. “I’m not a miracle worker.”

And she was only going to put one new thing in her mouth today, thank you very much.

“You aren’t. Yeah. Yeah...” Amy didn’t say anything more for a worryingly long amount of time before shaking her head; Lisa had to say, chipmunk cheeks would _not_ be a good look on her. Or a foot-long tongue; Two-fifty found its way out of Amy’s clip and into Lisa’s hand in short order...and she was going to have to find a new place to put it all. All the cum on her cotton clothes was starting to spread out and dirty money was just a saying. “Done.”

Lisa wished for gum again and held back a sigh as Amy took over yet more of her personal space. Then she apparently decided that her clothes were just getting in the way because, after some struggling to get her dick through the waistband, her skirt fell to the floor. Then her boxers too and that was when Lisa learned that Amy trimmed but didn’t shave.

Lisa could have found out earlier, but she hadn’t really wanted to know. Oh well. She would have found out eventually.

At least they looked soft. There was that...and Lisa had to raise a brow when Amy didn’t remove her loose and, Lisa had to admit, comfy looking t-shirt as well. “Feeling shy?”

“No,” Amy badly denied while Lisa looked her over... She honestly didn’t look that bad. She wasn’t going to be walking a catwalk anytime soon, not with thighs and a bottom that thick, but it wasn’t a bad look on her; Amy was still clearly the type to wear all her clothes to the pool. “You’re not working with my boobs is all. Why do I need to take off my shirt? No point.”

“Whatever you say.” Lisa shrugged and licked her lips, wetting them as she beckoned Amy forward with a hand. Today was just full of new experiences. “Come here.”

Lisa lightly bit her tongue in her haste to avoid Amy as they flopped into position, her left eye only just avoiding a terrible end. No amount of showers would have been able to wash that shame away. Or free and in depth medical care.

Besides… She was being paid for dirty talk, not degrading talk. That was a completely different billing code.

Amy let out a rather awkward noise, half apology and half anticipation as she waited for Lisa to do something. Lisa quickly wiped away the little smirk on her face. It wouldn’t make Amy think that she was enjoying this. Part of the scam was the appearance of reluctance, playing on Amy’s well-developed sense of ‘good’.

It was the difference between five bucks and fifty.

Lisa said something nice about how good Amy smelled, or something, while trying not to roll her eyes. The twitch that wiped away any and every trace of softness in Amy’s penis only made not doing so that much harder.

This was some real bodice ripper nonsense.

Lisa pursed her lips and took a deep breath through her nose. She couldn’t help but scrunch it at just how thick the air had become as she pressed her mouth against Amy’s tip.

Repressing her gag reflex was a herculean act.

Salt. Salt and musk and iron and other things instantly flooded her mouth when she redrew the tip of her tongue. Lisa knew the makeup of what she’d just eaten. Where it had come from. And it made her eyes water, just slightly, as it overwhelmed her senses.

It - actually wasn’t that bad. If it wasn’t what it was she could have put it on a salad and felt good about it. It was very - healthy. Full of vitamins and minerals and all that. It was good for her hair too.

… Disgusting.

Amy made a wheezing sound at the first hint of contact, her hands putting themselves on top of Lisa’s head in a silent request to continue; That was going to be another fifty for sure; Lisa was just thankful that Amy was mindful enough to not try and force her down. Maybe too mindful as, when she tried to move forward, she found herself held in place by the iron grip on her head.

Well, if they didn’t want their money’s worth… Sucker.

Lisa shrugged and just forced herself to move her tongue, slowly and awkwardly moving it around the head. Here. There. Wherever she had to go as she learned her way around the curves and ridges, using Amy’s huffing squeaks and moans as her guide to success.

Easy. Easy. So very _easy_.

Amy sighed, her moans reaching a lower pitch when Lisa flicked her tongue over the ‘v’ on the underside. It was sensitive enough that it made Amy’s legs shiver under the stress she was putting on them, just so she didn’t fall over. That was enough for Lisa. She’d found their weakness _here._ It was a weakness she was more than happy to take advantage of as she continued to use the very tip of her tongue to best effect, poking and prodding at this area so often it was as if she was trying to deepen the groove already there.

Then Lisa went for their _other_ weakness and it was over. Or it would be.

There was no warning on her end other than her fingers sliding along Amy’s glistening thighs, behind her balls and to the so far untouched slit that was there. Amy didn’t even jump when, with a twist of Lisa’s hand, the blonde fit an entire two fingers in, the middle and ring. Smooth. Almost as easy as it had been to convince them that Lisa had their best interests in mind.

Lisa pulling those fingers back towards _herself_ , just as soon as she found that one rough patch every girl had, changed things drastically.

Amy let go of Lisa’s head with a scream. Not a tortured one, thank god, but a scream. Shrill and sharp as her eyes rolled about in their sockets like she’d just been hit over the head. Another pull and a kiss on their rapidly dilating urethra shut Amy right up; she ran out of air in a single bark of hysterical not-laughter as she fired everything she had left just over Lisa’s shoulder as the blonde dodged to the right.

Her face wouldn’t have been able to protect her hair. She wouldn’t have been able to swallow it all, even if she’d wanted to. It was only right to let nature take its course. Short, brutal nature. Really short.

Lisa shuffled sideways on the bed, further away from the now drooling and still furiously orgasming new-girl repainting the wall over her bed a whole new shade of white...and Lisa didn’t know how to feel about it. Not really.

It was…a sight? One that she’d been able to force in less than two minutes. That had to be some sort of record, right? Something for the books? That had hit the wall with all the force of a softball, after all.

That had to have hurt.

Amy slumped forward when, just like before, her orgasm came to an end. She then let out an awful _groan_ , the groan of someone that had no more to give as she took the final step needed for her to fall on the bed, face first and finally flaccid… And, once again, anticlimactic. “Every - dollar.”

Then she started snoring and Lisa was alone. Effectively. For all intents and purposes, alone.

"Well don't mind if I do." Lisa smiled, taking what Amy had said as the endorsement it was and not as an invitation to rob her blind (sadly) as she tiptoed around the now gently snoring girl. Apparently, it was true. You get a guy, or new-girl in this case, to let out a load or two and it's like you’d hit them with a tranquilizer; At least there wouldn't be any awkward small talk after.

Lisa after picking money out of the clip finally let her power loose some, letting it give her more than just nudges for a second while she wiped herself off with Amy’s sheets; they hadn’t even taken long enough for the gel-like mass on her chest to get cold yet. Yet… She had a question to ask.

How much money could she take while keeping Amy happy and willing to come back for more? Amy was a golden goose and only idiots killed a good thing when they found it.

Lisa blinked. “Really…?” The answer was quite a bit. More than half. That girl needed a hobby or something… Or Lisa could be her hobby. Her expensive, expensive hobby. Oh well.

She was cheaper than miniatures. There was that.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little thing I thought up with the help of some fine people on Discord to give me ideas. And pushes. Lots of pushes. Many.
> 
> Writing is difficult and anyone that tells you otherwise is a liar. Also, I have to say that, if this short fic gets enough likes and comments, I might just continue it.
> 
> It was surprisingly fun.


End file.
